Resident Evil Halloween
by animetearslove
Summary: Halloween is drawing closer, and our beloved Resident Evil characters are taking a quick break from zombies. But,what happens when a familiar man comes along with the intention of screwing with their already messed up lives? Post RE5. R&R!
1. Prologue

**Resident Evil: Halloween**

Hi, what's up? This is my first-ever fic! Okay, I know that it's not Halloween, or even remotely near it, but I've had this idea stuck in my head for a while. I mean, who wouldn't want all of the Resident Evil characters meeting up while dressed up in creepy, weird, and disturbing costumes? Or that could just be me.

I've added the main list of characters with their ages because I want everyone staying, well, suitable ages. I mean, can you even _imagine _Rebecca's age and how she would look now? Excuse me while I go barf.

Anyway, here's the list:

**Chris Redfield **- 26

**Jill Valentine **- 25

**Sheva Alomar **- 23

**Rebecca Chambers **- 18

**Billy Coen **- 26

**Leon Scott Kennedy **- 24

**Claire Redfield **- 21

**Ada Wong**… hell, I don't know how old she is. I'll leave it to you guys to decide.

Hope you guys enjoy!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil in anyway. Wish I did, though.**

**Prologue**

A man sat at his desk, scribbling something on a letter. He glanced up to look at his calendar, noting the date. _October 23,_ he thought, as he sealed the letter and placed it on top of a pile containing seven other letters. Outside, the wind blew fiercely and a storm of leaves passed by his window, a few tapping the glass lightly. The man was excited for something he usually wouldn't be- Halloween. Even though he himself loved to dress up on more than one occasion, he believed costumes were works of art, reserved for theatre or the movies, not for snotty, bratty children who used costumes as a way to mooch adults out of their candy. The whole idea was simply barbaric.

It would be different, though. He couldn't wait for _his _party, in which he had invited eight of the most infuriating people in the world. And, they couldn't refuse his invitation; through extensive and what most people would call "stalkerish" research, he had found out what they most desired, what they most loved. He had added that as a "bribe" in each of his or her respective letters.

The man leaned back in his chair, satisfied. In a few days, he would get his revenge that he most longed for; he could almost _taste _it, the sweet savor of-

He suddenly leaned back too far and crashed to the floor, wincing in pain. "Aw, dammit," he whined in a high-pitched British accent, flinging out his hand. "I broke a nail…"

And that concludes the prologue! I know it was _really_ short, but, bear with me. Hopefully, you were able to tell who the "man" is. The end sort of made it obvious. Hopefully soon, I'l be able to have the first _real _chapter up.


	2. Invitations, Anyone?

Alright! Here's chapter 2:

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Resident Evil. Sadly. **

Oh, yeah, and before I forget: Rebecca is gonna be 20. Just bumping up her age a little.

**Invitations, Anyone? **

**Los Angeles, California **

A young girl stumbled across a street, mumbling angrily to herself. She had light brown hair down to her shoulders. She wore a light green top with the sleeves rolled up. For bottoms, she wore breathable yoga pants The wind ripped through the area, causing her to stumble a little. She looked up at the sky, shielding her eyes from the sun. "Ah, screw this," she muttered and kept walking. All around her, she heard kids laughing as they splashed in the water and adults spouting meaningless conversations about the weather. All in all everything was normal.

Still, the girl cursed her luck as she reached her apartment. Fumbling in her pocket, she pulled out some things she hadn't meant to, like the nearly dying green herb, until she found her keys. She pushed the key in the hole, twisting them around until she heard a satisfying _click. _She pushed the door open and literally fell inside her apartment. She mustered enough strength to shut the door and take off her shoes. She dragged herself to her couch and plopped down with a gratifying sigh. She started to close her eyes, to forget how stupid the people were that she was working for and how she had to keep this job or else she would be condemned to more job-hunting…

_Briiiiiing! _

"Shit!" The girl fell off the couch, surprised, and groaned as she got up. She rubbed her back and walked over to the phone, grabbing it in irritation. "What?" she answered, purely annoyed.

"Rebecca?"

Rebecca sweat-dropped as she recognized the voice of her new co-worker. She cleared her voice and answered in a fake, cheery voice, "_Steve! _What's up? I mean, did I forget anything at the hospital?"

"Uh, yeah," he answered back. "The _paperwork? _The big stack sitting on your desk?"

She rolled her eyes and took a deep breath before answering in that sickly sweet voice. "Oh, there was _more? _Sorry, must have not seen it."

Steve's voice was taking on an irritated tone. "Oh, c'mon, Chambers. You're not a complete dunce. I mean, I know you're only like, what, fifteen-"

"Twenty," Rebecca corrected through grinded teeth.

"Fifteen, twenty, whatever," he said, dismissively. "The point is, the boss with have our heads if you don't fill out the papers. Come in early tomorrow and I'll help you out."

Rebecca almost laughed when he offered to help her. Early tomorrow morning, Steve would wake up in bed next to some naked chick while recovering from a massive hangover. "Well, thanks for the offer," Rebecca began, "but I can handle the papers."

Steve chuckled. "You're not too bad, Rebecca. Alright, see ya." He hung up.

Rebecca stared at the phone. "Fucking asshole," she said to no one in particular. She put the phone back down on the receiver and ran a hand through her hair. She remembered when she had been the timid type, when she followed what everyone told her. Now, she still did that, but was a bit more outgoing in what she said. The Spencer Mansion and Caliban Cove certainly helped her with that. She sighed as she remembered _everything- _her old teammates, Wesker, and the zombies. After Caliban Cove, Rebecca never heard from Chris, Jill, Leon, or Claire. She knew that everyone was laying low while trying to take down Umbrella, but, she figured even a measly postcard wouldn't hurt every now and then.

While Chris and Jill co-founded the BSAA, Leon had been forced into government work, and Claire had been off in India. Rebecca certainly missed her teammates, but, she realized life-threatening situations really weren't her thing and she'd be better off as a doctor. A biochemist would work too, but she wanted to stay away from the eyes of Umbrella; she did _not _want to get caught up in that madness again. However, when she tried to convince people to let her work, they'd blown her off, saying things like how she was a kid, and how a kid was more suited for McDonald's. She didn't really hadn't matured in looks, Rebecca would admit, but it was really irritating when all she wanted was a chance to show she could do it and was denied.

So, she was stuck with these cheap-budget jobs that threatened to leave her homeless.

She'd been job-hunting lately, a burden she'd been stuck with, when she came across a job in L.A. that seemed to pay better than any others. She requested the job and when it came to the job interview, the people had been gracious about it, not even commenting on her age, which was a first, something she was glad for. She was given the job and she started working a few days later.

Working, at first, was _actually _working. She ran around the hospital, checking on patients and doing everything a nurse should.

However, soon afterwards, her senior co-workers would ask her to do random tasks, like take out the garbage, clean up in the bathrooms, clear up the lobby room. Rebecca accepted these with a strained smile, hoping that they'd soon stop picking on her. She knew a lot of people who looked at her petite frame and thought that she was a weakling; and her co-workers were good examples of these people.

Only, the tasks didn't stop; they only got worse and even stupider. They sent her all over the city, asking her for Starbucks, McDonald's, Burger King, while they sat their lazy asses down and waited comfortably for her return. Once, someone even asked her to go get her charger from her house because her phone was dying and she needed to badly text this guy back or else he'd break up with her.

Too many times, Rebecca had wanted to shout in their pathetic faces that she simply didn't care about their problems, that she had her _own _shit to deal with. But, she reminded herself that she'd be out of a job, _again, _and the pay was simply too good to lose. Thus, she endured work, praying that something would happen in her favor.

Rebecca opened the pantry and got out an unopened bag of cheese puffs. She opened it, melting a little at the smell. She laid down on her bed and popped one puff in at a time, savoring the taste of each one. As she ate, she found herself remembering a memory between her and Billy. They had been walking deeper into one of Umbrella's underground research facility when they suddenly started talking about food. It was one of those oh-what-the-heck-moments. They were talking about how they wished there was a kitchen stocked with food they wanted when she had mentioned cheese puffs. Billy simply laughed at her and joked that she was probably one of those weird people who enjoyed 'unnaturally colored orange foods'.

Rebecca smiled to herself as she remembered how she had rolled her eyes and changed the subject to their ages. She had been called a girl scout and she had countered by calling him a grandpa. They had joked around for a while, acting silly and totally forgetting where they were.

Rebecca closed her eyes as she remembered how short their time was. And, she had lost the only souvenir she had of their time together. Billy's dog tags, which she had stolen from him as proof that he had "died", were gone. She woke up one morning a few months ago to find the dog tags missing from around her neck. She'd searched her apartment thoroughly, but to no avail. They had just disappeared.

She sat up in bed, licking off her fingers. Suddenly, she noticed a small box sitting on her window sill, like it had a right to be there, when it _clearly _didn't. She ran over, hoping that it wasn't some more paperwork from her co-workers or something _far _worse. However, when she reached the box, all she saw was a letter with her name on the cover, written in fancy handwriting: _Ms. Chambers. _

Rebecca stared at the letter, her brain taking a little while to register the fact that _her_ name was on the letter and that she should _probably _open it. After a few seconds, Rebecca grabbed the letter and ripped open the envelope, not really caring how suspicious the whole thing was.

When she got out the letter, she nearly gagged when the strong scent of… _something _reached her nose. It sort of smelled like something aristocrats would wear to their fancy parties. Willing herself to get past the smell, Rebecca looked down at the paper and began to read:

_ October 23, 2011_

_Dear Ms. Chambers, _

_ Greetings. How are you? I, myself, am doing excellently. Right about now, you are probably asking, who is man or woman? Alas, who I am is irrelevant as of now. What is relevant, however, is a party I'm throwing on Halloween. I'd like to invite you. Don't worry- I don't want anything in exchange. All I would ask in return is that you come dressed in appropriate attire; in other words, a costume. Others will be invited, but, for right now, it is a surprise as to who the other guests are. _

_ Directions to the party are not needed. I will send each of my guests a personal driver who will bring you to where I will be waiting. Food and drinks will be provided. Feel free to bring any games or props to liven up the atmosphere. I sincerely hope that you will accept this invitation and you will be able to come. _

_ Warm Regards and Wishing you a Happy Holiday, _

_ XXXXX _

Rebecca finished the letter and glared at it. "Okay," she said to no one. "I may _look _young, I may _look_ stupid_, _but I'm not some downright _IDIOT _who would fall for such an obvious joke!" she ranted, letting the paper fall out of her hands. The paper turned to the back, revealing some writing she hadn't noticed. Rebecca kept on ranting. "Oh, and I suppose there's some candy in this box as a bribe so I'll go!" she laughed as she opened the box. "I can't be-" She stopped mid-sentence as she saw what was inside.

Rebecca reached in and pulled the item out, speechless.

Dog tags.

With William Coen's credentials engraved on it.

Rebecca glanced back at the fallen letter and read what was written on the back.

_ P.S. Oh, yes, don't forget to open the box. I believe the item inside might serve as a motivation to go... _

Yay! I finished the second chapter! I just love the pairing of Billy and Rebecca. Anyway, the "orange food" reference is from the actual book, _Zero Hour._ _Caliban Cove _is also a book, which totally sucked because Rebecca meets this guy named Steve and she falls head-over-heels for him. Ugh. And that is why I named one of her "co-workers" Steve and made him a total a-hole.

Chapter three will be up soon, hopefully!

Reviews are appreciated!


	3. Situations

**Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil. **

Chapter 3:

**Situations **

Rebecca wasn't the only one to receive the rather suspicious letter. All over the world, seven others received similar letters in strange occurrences.

**Kijuju, Africa **

A young woman walked through one of the only stable towns left in Kijuju and scanned the area. An exotic beauty, her skin was light bronze and she had her dark hair pulled back into a small ponytail. Her layered tight purple cammie showed off her curves and athletic form. Her military pants were a light tan and she had dark brown boots up to her knees. Around her waist, she had a belt which carried a standard pistol and ammunition.

The woman stopped a moment to scan the area, seeing nothing but people working and children laughing. A few months ago, there would have been people dying and killings everywhere. But, after she and Chris had cleaned up what was happening, namely by dealing with Wesker, things had settled. Reconstruction of the villages had begun shortly after and she had stayed behind to help with repairs.

While she stayed in Africa, Chris and Jill had left to complete more missions. She wanted them to stay awhile, especially Chris, but she knew it was selfish of her when other places needed their help even more.

She sighed loudly, rubbing the back of her neck as she found herself thinking about Chris again. She and Chris… there was never a "them" in the first place. There was the age difference, she would admit, but there was still even a bigger reason. His heart was still stuck on Jill, and when she popped up again, she knew that she'd lost Chris. She respected Jill, and she wanted Chris and Jill to be happy. But the fact that every time Chris had spoken and looked at her, he _only _saw Jill, broke her heart.

Every time.

"Sawubona, Sheva!"

Sheva turned her head, breaking her thoughts of Chris. "Ah, Shinda!" she said in her distinct accent.

"You okay?" Shinda remarked as she walked forward, a basket balanced on her head. "You looked a little dazed."

Sheva smiled a little. "I thought I'd never admit this, but, things have gotten slow around here."

"So, you'd rather be out fighting and risking your life every minute?" Shinda asked, sighing. "Honestly, Sheva. After what you've gone through, I thought you might _enjoy_ the change of pace."

"I do, I do," Sheva said, exasperated a little. "It's just… that Chris… and Jill, are gone. I have Josh and everyone back at base, but Chris and Jill were special too."

Shinda remarked, "Oh, those two Americans? The woman with blonde hair and the man who looked like he took muscle enhancers and smoked too much weed? He also looked like he needed a shave…" she finished, smirking.

"Shinda!" Sheva laughed. "Alright, I admit, he needed to lay off the drugs, but, honestly, he was my partner the entire time he was here," she said, realizing too late that she sounded defensive of him.

Shinda looked at her knowingly. "Getting territorial, are we?" Before Sheva could defend herself, Shinda continued talking. "I saw how you just _fawned _over him. After the blonde woman came around, you were a little bit more withdrawn. He spent a _lot _of time with her."

Sheva rolled her eyes. "Shinda, of course Chris would! Jill, who he thought was dead, is suddenly alive. Not to mention the fact that she was his partner for a hell of a long time."

Shinda laughed. "Alright. You win. Anyway," she hefted the basket on her head, "got to get home. My kids are alone and I swear they've already broken something."

Sheva said, "Say hi to them for me, okay?"

"Of course." Shinda turned around, then turned her head a little. "Don't worry," she said with a little smile, "I have a good feeling you'll see both of them again." She walked away, greeting fellow neighbors.

Sheva stood still for a minute. "I wish…" she half-whispered to herself. She started to walk again, this time a little more slowly. She was deep in thought when-

_WHAP! _

Sheva let out a gasp of surprise. A piece of paper had hit her smack-dab in the face.

In irritation, she removed the piece of paper and almost threw it back in the wind when she caught the writing on the front: _Ms. Alomar. _

Intrigued, Sheva turned the paper over and proceeded to read. "…" After a minute, she had finished. "… Is this _serious?" _she said, incredulous. "How the hell… who the hell…?" She shook her head. "I shouldn't even be considering this letter. I have more important things to-" She stopped as she noticed more writing hidden under a folded corner of the paper. Curiosity got the better of her as she lifted the flap.

She read the paper and literally felt her jaw drop.

"I… I _have _to go…"

**Kawailoa Beach, Honolulu! **

The sun shone brightly across the water. On the vastly populated beach, umbrellas dotted the surface, creating a large mess of colors. Children splashed happily in the water, adults relaxed beneath the comfortable shade of the coconut trees, and others lay out in the sun, getting a deep tan. Under a red and white umbrella, a man slept soundly, snoring loudly. He had long, unruly brown hair. He had a dark purple tank top on and blue shorts. On one of his arms, there was a large blotch, like there was something there, but it had been simply erased. He had a pair of sunglasses on.

As he slept, someone tapped his arm.

"… leave me alone…" he mumbled, turning in his sleep.

"Hey, Will, wake up," a voice said.

"… five more minutes…" he answered sleepily.

"Wake up, dammit! You're not on vacation!" The person said angrily, kicking "Will".

"Will" sprung up, knocking over the umbrella. "Ugh!" he groaned as the sunlight hit his eyes.

"Serves you right, slacking off on your job," the person who had kicked him smirked.

"Jesus, Phil, did you have to kick me?" The man in the sunglasses asked, irritated.

Phil crossed his arms. "Yeah, actually. You're supposed to be up at your station," he said. "You're a _lifeguard. _How about you do your job?"

"I told Don to take over for a few minutes," Will shot back. "I just needed some sleep."

"Don told me that you were off drinking."

Will sighed angrily. "Damned bastard."

Phil laughed. "Yeah, I agree with you there. Anyway," he said, jerking his thumb toward the lifeguard tower, "better get up on there."

Will nodded, rubbing his head. "Sorry, Phil. Just needed some sleep. Didn't get any last night."

Phil looked at his friend. "You weren't… you know?"

Will rolled his eyes. "Of course not. I just kept waking up last night. I tried taking some medicine, but it didn't help."

"Bad dreams?" Phil teased as he and Will started to walk toward the tower.

"…" Will remained silent, looking out toward the ocean.

"Will?"

Will looked back at his buddy. "Sorry. No," he began slowly. "Not a bad dream. Just… a memory."

Phil looked inquisitively at his friend. "A memory?"

"Yeah, nothing else."

Phil looked forward. "You know, Will, you've never told me much about your past."

Will laughed weakly. "Yeah, my past isn't so great."

Phil looked teasingly back at his friend. "Ooh, a deep, dark secret? Or perhaps-"

He was suddenly cut off by a blonde woman shouting, "PHIIIIIIL!"

Will flinched as Phil looked toward the street to find his girlfriend standing, waving her arms. Phil looked apologetically at Will before walking toward her. "Sorry, Will," he chuckled. "Duty calls."

Will did a salute in mock response. But, as he did, more memories started to sink back. He remembered what he was called before, _Billy, _and he remembered the vehicle that was transporting him, crashing. He remembered running, fleeing from the dogs. Remembered taking refuge in the train, the Ecliptic Express. Most of all, though, he remembered _her. _

Doll-face.

Girl scout.

Rebecca.

He closed his eyes as he remembered their farewell, the salute, his dog tags. The memories got more recent as he remembered going south after leaving Rebecca, then traveling the world, changing his nick-name to Will and his last name to Carson, a normal-sounding name. He had met Phil while traveling, decided to take up a job as a lifeguard. He had settled in Kawailoa and enjoyed his new life.

However, memories came to haunt him often and Billy found himself wondering what would've happened if he'd stayed with Rebecca…

Will, or rather, Billy climbed up the ladder of the tower, one rung at a time. He reached the top and sat down on the chair. He surveyed the area with his binoculars. Everything was in order; there were sounds of laughter and nothing else. Entirely the opposite of the sounds he'd experienced a few years back. All he could hear back then was terrified screams and gunshots. The sounds lay deep in his mind, unforgettable.

Billy suddenly stood up, feeling apprehensive. He scanned the waters, looking for any signs of drowning. There was nothing happening, but Billy still felt at unease. He turned to his left and found a small box. "…" He picked up the box, looking for any sign of who owned it. Upon finding nothing, he shrugged and casually opened it, taking whatever was inside out.

His hand took out a crisp envelope. He read to whom it was addressed to, eyes widening.

_Mr. Billy Coen. _

Billy… no one had called him that in a long time…

He ripped open the letter, hoping to God it wasn't one of Umbrella's goonies and that they had found him after all these years. Hands shaking slightly, he read the letter.

Fear turned into irritated relief as he finished the letter.

Billy sat back down, holding the letter. "Damn, who could have sent this? How do they know my name?" He ran a hand through his hair. What if this person sent the word that convict William Coen, accused of killing 26 people, was still alive? Would he have to run _again_? Again feel the burning accusations for something he _didn't _do? He gripped the paper harder.

No.

Not again.

**Somewhere Secret… :P**

A woman walked across a small platform, her red dress sweeping the floor. She had short black hair and a face that held many secrets. On her dress, there was a pattern of Asian flower prints. Lacy black heels were worn on her feet. She knelt down and picked up the piece of paper that had fallen. It was addressed to her. She read the letter quickly then read the scribbled in _P.S. _at the bottom. Her eyebrows furrowed as she read.

"That's right; that idiot still has my keys!"

**N.Y.C. **

Amid the hustle and bustle of a busy street, two people walked next to each other, arguing. The one on the right was female, incredibly pretty with her shiny red hair pulled back into a ponytail. She had a pink shirt on, which, at the back, proclaimed, _Made in Heaven. _She had jean shorts on and Converse boots.

The person next to her, a male, was tall and well-built. A little too well built. His flat brown hair lair messily atop his head. He had a plain green shirt on and khakis.

The girl glared at the guy. "Chris, I don't know why you feel the need to work out," she exclaimed, waving her arms in the air. "You already have muscles. Any more, and you'll look like a bloated hippo!"

Chris rolled his eyes. "Claire, just let me do what I want. If you don't remember, _I'm_ the eldest."

"Yeah, but you're stupid," she pointed out. "Mom and Dad should've left me in charge…"

He ruffled his sister's hair playfully. "Watch it, squirt."

Claire crossed her arms. "This is the third time you've been to the gym this week," she mumbled. "It's not healthy to work out so much."

"Aww," Chris said teasingly. "My baby sister cares about me."

Claire couldn't help but smile. "Baby sister? _Really?_" She scoffed and turned to cross the street.

"Hey, where're you going?" Chris asked.

"Does _everything _have to be your business?" Claire smirked as she started to cross the street. "I'll meet up with you later," she said, waving a hand. She turned and reached the other side. She started walking away from her brother, feeling his burning stare on her back. She shrugged it off, and continued walking.

The problem was, she didn't know to _where. _

It had been a hasty decision to walk away from her brother, but she needed to get away. His need to protect was just _suffocating. _It got even worse after Claire left India, only to find out her boyfriend was breaking up with her. She was strong, but she'd really liked the guy. When Chris had found out, he found constantly near his sister, like he was her mother. Which, he clearly wasn't.

Claire looked around, doing a little window shopping occasionally. Every now and then, she could feel guys looking at her from every direction. She ignored it, however, and kept walking. She felt somewhat uncomfortable, but that really was her fault- her booty shorts just added to the problem.

She rounded the corner and noticed something.

_A gun shop?, _she thought as she walked forward. It was a little side shop, with dinky little lights and a major need for a new paint job.

She cautiously around for a second and opened the door. Barry Burton, Chris' old friend, was a gun nut, and he had passed on some of his love for guns to Chris. In effect, Chris sort of passed that on to Claire. She still felt a rush of exhilaration whenever she saw guns.

Claire stepped slowly in, a bell banging against the door. "Hello? Um, I saw that this was open-" She peeked outside quickly to check if the shop was _indeed _open and sighed with relief to see the bright neon sign reading _OPEN. _She put her head back in the store and resumed talking. "And I just wanted to look around."

At the front desk, there was a small bell to ring for an employee and a stack of papers. But no one was there.

Claire looked around to see most of the shop empty, only a few remaining guns hanging around. She walked in, not really caring if someone caught her. Besides, she'd been in much more _risky _situations before.

She walked to the first gun she saw; a Dragunov rifle. She recognized it because it looked almost exactly like the one Chris had brought with him to Africa. She ran her hands slowly along the top, smiling a little. Next, she noticed a handgun, the Red9. She remembered Leon telling her it was one of the best handguns.

She reached the front of the room after examining a few more guns, all of them in perfect condition. She looked around the front, looking for any more guns she'd missed.

She almost had deemed there was nothing else to see when a golden glint caught her eyes. She whirled around and saw an open display case she must've missed. She knelt down to examine it and let out a small gasp.

Two golden Lugers.

Claire put her hand on one of them. Lugers… she hadn't seen those since…

The door suddenly banged open behind her, and Claire grabbed the Luger. She turned around, gun raised.

All that met her was an empty space next to an open door and an eerie silence.

Her breathing and heart slowly became calmer as she got up and dusted off her knees. She checked to see that no one was watching her before turning around and gently placing the Luger back inside the case.

Claire stood again and noticed the stack of papers on the desk. She pick them up, just to see if there was any information on if the store had actually closed down, when something fell out of the stack. Putting the stack back on the desk, she knelt down to pick up whatever had fallen.

An envelope.

_Ms. Redfield. _

Her eyebrows furrowing, she ripped the envelope open and picked out the letter inside. She read it, suspicion growing on her face. After finishing, she flipped the letter over to find an arrow pointing up. Tracing the arrow, she found it to lead to…

The two Lugers.

Claire simply narrowed her eyes and stood up again. She slipped the letter into her pocket. "Better not tell Chris. He'll _flip_…"

**Meanwhile… **

Chris entered the gym and was immediately met by the sound of running on treadmills, the teaching of a class in one of the spare rooms, and the grunt of someone who had let an especially heavy weight get the best of him. Sounds that Chris was more than used to.

He walked in, using his membership card against a scanner. As his card beeped in, someone walked out of a nearby room, the person using a small towel to wipe the sweat off their face. The person removed the towel from his face in time to see Chris.

" Hey, Chris!" The person said, waving. Sweat glistened down his arms.

Chris turned to see his friend, Adam. "Adam, what's up, man?" He went over to Adam, grinning. "How much you bench-press?"

"Around one-fifty ," Adam answered, then looked at Chris. "Don't even remark on what a "wimp" I am. I don't have muscles that make me look like a bloated hippo."

Chris laughed. "God, you too? Claire was telling me the same thing earlier."

"Claire, your hot little sis, right?"

Chris glared at him.

Adam flung out his hands. "Whoa, calm down! It's not my fault your sister's really h- uh, attractive."

Chris merely shook his head. "Anyway, she was telling me not to come back here again."

"Well, for a good cause, I assume."

"Don't assume. It makes an "ass out of u and-"

"…me," Adam finished. "Why do you have one of the worst senses of humor?"

Chris shrugged. "Just born with it." He walked past Adam, heading into the bench-pressing room. "You still gonna bench-press?" he asked, turning his head slightly.

"No," Adam answered. "I'm good for today. I'll see you later," he said, waving. He went into the locker room area, draping the towel around his neck.

Chris walked into the weight-lifting room. It was empty. He took off his shirt and picked up a pair of gloves, slipping them onto his hands. He picked the bench he'd been aiming to use: three hundred pounds of sheer weight.

He slipped under the bar, propping himself up, getting ready. He flexed out his arms, determination set on his face.

He grasped the bar, and lifted it, groaning a little. He lifted high above his chest with little resistance. He let his arms lower, and then raised them again. His main goal was to beat his record of doing twenty without resting. It was looking good, so far.

Chris repeatedly raised, lowered, then raised the bar again. Sweat trickled down his face, but he kept pushing, wanting to get at _least _twenty-one.

_Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen… _Chris counted in his mind. He could feel his strength waning. _Eighteen, nineteen, almost there… Twenty- _

"Chris!"

Chris concentration was broken and he let the bar crash back down. "Oh, fuck it!" he swore angrily. He turned around to see who had interrupted him.

Adam stood in the doorway, rubbing the back of his head nervously. "Eh hehe…" he said uneasily. "Sorry…"

Chris took a deep breath. "It's okay, man." He got out from under the bar and stood, stretching. "Did you need something?"

Adam nodded, still uncomfortable. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. "Here. I found it near your locker. It looked pretty fancy, so…" He handed the letter to Chris. On the letter, _Mr. Redfield _was written artfully in big sweeps.

"Thanks," Chris said. "Did you see anyone leave it?"

"No, sorry," Adam answered apologetically. He inched slowly out of the room. "Well, I just had that to give you. Sorry about earlier."

"It's fine," Chris said, grinning. "Don't worry about it."

Adam looked a bit more relieved. "Alright. See ya," he said, and started walking.

Chris sat down on a near-by bench and opened the letter. His eyes scanned over the letter, one of his eyebrows raising. He read the letter in its entirety and sat a minute, thinking. Finally, he said, "Interesting…"

**Chicago, Illinois **

**3 A.M. **

It was fairly quiet out in the streets. Dogs barked softly now and then and the occasional light would flicker for a few seconds. Inside a small house, a woman turned restlessly in her bed. She had short, brown hair and an attractive face. She had a loose, black tank top on and white shorts.

She muttered, sweat popping out on her face. "N-no… what…" She mumbled some more, flopping onto her stomach…

***Inside her Dream* **

_She walked along a familiar hallway, quickly realizing where she was. _

_The Spencer Mansion. _

_She broke out in a sweat as she remembered what was waiting for her, and reached into her holster to pull out her gun. _

_However, she felt nothing but empty space. _

_She reached for her knife, but that was gone, too. She told herself to relax, that all she needed to do was be able to run fast… _

_GROWWWL. _

_She turned around, flinching at the sight behind her. _

_Two zombie dogs, their flesh rotting, stood and looked up at her, growling softly. _

_The brown-haired woman broke out in a cold sweat and dashed for the nearest door. The dogs bolted into action after her. _

_She reached the door, but found it to be locked. _

"_Shit!" She grabbed her lock pick out of her pocket. She fumbled with the door's lock, not daring to look back. _

_In a few seconds, she heard a satisfying _click _and opened the door hurriedly. She stepped in the room, sweeping the door shut just as one of the dogs jumped. She cringed a little upon hearing the dog's body hit the door. She stood, concentrating on the door. The dogs scrabbled on the door, but gave up after a few seconds. She listened closely as she heard the dogs leaving. Sighing, she turned around and… _

"_Damnit…" _

_The door she just so happened to open led to the room where she had nearly lost her life once. _

_The ceiling started to cave in on her, and she shouted out, "Fuck deja-vu!" _

_She ran to all the doors, but, like last time, they were locked. She ran to the door she had come from in. She pounded with her fists on one the doors, screaming for help. She could feel the dust crumbling from the ceiling, feel the whisper of _death_ so close… _

"Jill? _That you in there?" _

_Jill's ears perked up at the sound of a familiar voice. "Barry! Help me! The door's jammed!" _

"_Stand back!" Barry announced. From the other side, Jill could hear him firing a blast from his magnum. _

_Barry opened the door and stuck out his hand, yelling, "Take my hand!" _

_Jill eagerly obliged and grabbed his hand. He pulled her out of the room just as the ceiling crushed the place where she'd been just a few seconds earlier. _

_Both of them were gasping for air. Jill looked up at Barry thankfully. "Barry-" She stopped, though, as she noticed where they were. _

_A kitchen. _

_She closed her eyes, sure she was seeing things. Still, she was in a _kitchen _when she opened her eyes. Jill looked confusedly at the whole thing. She could've _sworn _that this was supposed to be a _hallway, _not a kitchen. _

_Jill looked at Barry, who was suddenly looking at her with real interest. "Barry? What is it?" _

_Barry rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "Good thing I pulled you out of that room. A few more seconds, and you would've fitted nicely into a _sandwich…"

"… _Very funny, Barry. Thanks for taking my life or death situation by turning it into a joke," Jill said sarcastically. _

"_I want a Jill Sandwich," Barry said suddenly. _

"… _what?" Jill asked, not sure she was hearing correctly. _

"_Go make me a Jill Sandwich," he said blandly, pointing at the fridge. _

"_Barry," Jill said, standing up and walking away from him. "Stop it. This is no time for jokes." _

"_But I'm hungry," he answered tonelessly. "A man like me needs to eat." _

_Jill started to feel more and more uncomfortable. "… You stay here Barry, and I'll go get some help…" _

"_I. WANT. JILL. SANDWICH," he said, almost zombie-like. He reached for Jill. _

_She backed away even further, heading for the door. "Cut it out, Barry! You have a wife, for God's sake!" However, he kept walking toward her, a blind look in his eyes. _

_Unable to take it anymore, Jill ran out the door, running as fast as she could. Not watching where she was going, she crashed head-first into something. She fell to the floor, groaning in pain. She looked up in shock to see… _

_A refrigerator? _

_Jill got up in a panic and noticed that she was in the same room she had fled from. Barry was on the other side of the room, still moaning about a Jill sandwich. Jill was about to run again when she noticed a recipe for something on the side of the fridge. It read: How to Make a Jill Sandwich. Ingredients: Two slices of bread, ham, mustard… and a healthy serving of _Jill.

_Jill stepped back, shocked, and felt Barry's hands on her shoulders. She freaked, and pushed Barry away from her and ran for a door._

_However, the door just led back into the kitchen. _

_No matter how many doors she tried, they all just led back into the kitchen. _

_Round and round, Jill ran, all the while hearing a frightening voice booming, "JIIIIILL SANDWICH…" _

***Cue End of Dream* **

"NOOOOO!" Jill woke up, screaming. It took her minute to realize it had all been a dream, and when she did, she flopped down on her bed, recovering from the shock. She decided to refrain from lingering too long on her nightmare and got up, rubbing her head. She slipped on her slippers and walked to the sink to get a drink of water. Deciding some pills to help her sleep would be a good idea too, she opened the cabinet and felt around for her prescribed medicine.

What she felt, instead, was the smooth surface of an envelope. She pulled it out, thinking it was maybe a reminder or something she'd accidentally put in there.

She opened a nearby light and saw her name written on the written in beautiful handwriting: _Ms. Valentine. _She looked at in confusion, not remembering who had given her it. She opened it anyway, and took out the letter inside.

She read through it slowly, still a bit groggy. Something had made her suddenly put a hand to her mouth. "Really…?"

**Washington, D.C. **

It was a special night to be in the White House. Well, at least for Ashley Graham. She paced in her lavish room, a finger to her mouth while she pondered what to wear. She picked a low-cut dress and tossed it in her closet. "Cute, but too low-cut. Daddy would kill me," she criticized. She picked out her favorite top and skinny jeans, but threw them into the closet too. "Too over worn," she stressed, sitting on her bed.

Ashley was excited because the man of her dreams, Leon, was coming to have dinner with her and her father as a recognition and thanks for what he'd done so far for the country. She sighed as she remembered when he'd rescued her from that village in Europe. He was so hot, and almost hers, until that _bitch _in the red dress had shown up. She'd swept Leon off his feet, and then left abruptly.

Ashley wouldn't do that, not to Leon. She wouldn't leave, unlike that Asian. She felt frustrated suddenly, as she realized his type was more sly and cunning. She thought a moment, then clapped her hands! "Oh! I know what to wear!"

**While Ashley was giggly with joy, some people weren't so pleased… **

In the main dining room of the White House, a handsome young man sat, wearing a nametag with his name: _Leon Kennedy._

Leon straightened his tie, feeling an mix of annoyance and the need to puke. His blonde hair swept over his handsome face. He had a formal suit on, a white tie contrasting with his black suit. He felt much more comfortable in his regular apparel- a plain black shirt to show off his amazing abs, a belt, and military pants.

He looked over the table, waiting. Dinner with the prez would be fine with him.

But with his daughter?

Not in a million years.

After he'd saved Ashley, she called him regularly and asked if he wanted to 'come over'. He prayed that soon that she'd get over his fan girl crush because she was only getting more annoying by the second. She didn't, though, to his great disappointment.

When he received the letter requesting he visit for a friendly dinner, Leon almost died. He imagined the awkwardness of the situation. What if Ashley asked why he hadn't replied to her numerous e-mails, texts, and letters? How could he answer her with a straight face while her _father _sat right across from him?

Leon sweat-dropped while just _thinking _about it. He froze as door creaked open, hoping to God it wasn't Ashley.

"Ah, Kennedy, it's good to see you."

Leon relaxed into a smile. "Mr. President."

He got up and shook hands with him.

"How are you, son?" President Graham said amiably.

"Good, sir. And yourself?"

"Fine as well," he said. "Sit please." He motioned to the seat.

Leon sat, and asked the question he'd been dreading. "So, sir, where's your daughter?"

The President laughed. "In her room. Jesus, it's taking her forever to get ready."

Leon stiffened. That wasn't good. That meant she was going to come out wearing the sluttiest choice of clothes ever or something _far _worse…

"We'll be having steak this evening," the president said, breaking Leon's thoughts.

"Good ol' American style food," Leon managed to say.

"Yes, I agree," the president chuckled. "Now what would you like to drink? We've got excellent examples of wine here, or a beer if you want-"

The doors suddenly opened again, and Leon braced himself for the worst.

Ashley walked in, a proud smile on her face. She'd picked out a dress that showed just enough cleavage and skin- a skin-tight red dress, it had spaghetti straps and flowed down to just above her knees. On one side of her dress, Asian prints of flowers were drawn. For shoes, she wore black pumps.

Leon almost laughed when he saw Ashley. She was trying to mimic Ada- except an American and blonde version.

Leon put on his best poker face and smiled. "Ashley, good to see you." He waited her response, which he was dreading would come out as an overdrawn response of his name.

"Hello, Leon," she said sweetly. "It's been too long."

Leon let out a sigh of relief. At least she didn't suffocate him with a hug. Not wanting to be rude, he drew out a chair for Ashley, which she accepted with a giggle. "Thank you."

Leon resisted rolling his eyes. He sat down at his own chair, and the President smiled. "Good," he said. "Now that we're all present, let's thank our-" He suddenly stopped talking and swallowed. "Excuse me. As I was saying-" He swallowed again and rubbed his throat. He stood up. "Excuse me. I have to use the facilities." He walked rapidly out the door,

Leon's eyes widened as he realized his worst-case scenario had come true-

He was alone in a room with Ashley.

Leon drew out his collar, trying to get some air. He was nervous, but not because he had girl problems- it's just that _this _girl was the _President's_ daughter and anything wrong he said was liable to get him killed.

He laughed awkwardly. "So, Ashley, howzit been?"

She remained silent, staring at him.

He felt a shiver run down his back. He stood up, taking a deep breath. "Hey, listen, I have to go too. To the bathroom, of course. No where else."

Ashley suddenly stood, and walked over to where Leon stood. She looked at him, making her eyes as big as possible. She pressed up at him, pouting. "Leeeon," she whined. "Don't be a pussy."

Leon took deep breaths and told himself not to look down, where he'd most certainly get a good look down her dress. Which was her plan.

"Ashley," Leon began, "I really don't think your dad would approve of this."

Ashley rolled her eyes. "Who cares what that old geezer thinks."

"What if he walks in on us?" Leon said, thinking quickly. "I'd get in trouble, and you don't want that to happen, right?"

She responded with a malicious smile. "Don't worry. I took care of that; I laced his food with something earlier. He won't be coming back anytime soon," she cooed. She grabbed his arm. "C'mon, let's get that overtime…"

Leon resisted, staying where he was. "What the hell did you give your dad?"

She looked back at him, and ignored his question. "Leeeon," she began again. "I can be sooo much better than that Asian bitch. I can show you a _real _good time."

Leon almost gagged. College kids these days…

Ashley went back to him and put her arms around him suddenly. "Leon, c'mon. I'm hot and I can be all yours…"

Leon swallowed nervously and reluctantly hugged her back. He felt her relax into the hug, than whispered, "Sorry, but, you're just not my type." Before she could reply to that, he karate-chopped the vulnerable part of the back of her neck. She wobbled once before slipping onto the ground. Leon grabbed her limp body and held it up. He sighed, relieved and at the same time so screwed.

Leon dragged Ashley to the table, where he sat her upon the seat and put her head down on the table to make it look like she'd fallen asleep. Leon reckoned it'd be about two, three hours before she woke up.

Leon casually walked out of the dining room, glancing around. He looked a any security cameras and found one. He avoided its gaze and backtracked to where he had come in. As he passed by a window, something flew in and landed at his feet. He picked it up and read his own name: _Mr. Kennedy. _

He ripped open the envelope, nervous expectation on his face. He read the letter inside, getting to the end. The end was the part that made him cave in. "Good timing…" he muttered, and slipped the letter in his pocket. Whoever had sent it, he didn't know. Whoever did, though, knew exactly what Leon needed.

He walked along the hall, formulating his means of escape.

**Ahh! Another chappie finished! I have to say, this was a lot of fun to write. Billy's part was my favorite- Billy as a lifeguard= awesome :D. **

**Please review so I can see what I did wrong and right! Thanks! :) **


	4. The Most Awkward Reunion EVAR!

**Disclaimer: Capcom owns Resident Evil. 'Nuff said. **

Chapter 4:

**The Most Awkward Reunion EVAR! **

**Rebecca's Apartment **

**October 31****st**

**8:00 P.M. **

Rebecca stood in front of her mirror, tugging a little at her sleeves. She was decked out in a full nurse's outfit; her skirt was knee length, she had puffed out sleeves, she had a little band around her arm with a cross, she had tights with black shoes, and she had the adorable little "nurse" hat on top of her head.

Rebecca sighed discontentedly. She'd wanted to come as something more _original, _but she just didn't look good in anything that wasn't medical related. She'd tried vampire, cowboy, some kind of red leather strip-tease outfit… hell, she'd even tried being a zombie. But none of them pleased her.

She whirled around in front of the mirror, double-checking nothing was out of place. "… Bow's tied perfectly, hat's not crooked… I _should _be set… oh! Wait…" She went past the mirror into a small closet. She removed a box from the upper shelf. After taking the top off, she took out the items inside- Billy's dog tags, a pistol, and some ammunition.

She slipped Billy's dog tags around her slender neck, and then picked up the gun. The heavy weight made her feel safe. She'd decided taking a gun because it would just be a lot safer. She didn't know the "driver" who was coming to pick her up. And she certainly didn't know the sender of the invitation. However, she felt _compelled _to go. Did the inviter know Billy? If he or she did, she had to talk to them. Maybe they knew that Billy was an ex-convict…

"Gun's still loaded," Rebecca muttered to herself. She lifted her skirt to reveal a gun holster on her right thigh. She slipped the gun in, and the ammo on the side. The bulkiness of the skirt would conceal the gun, Rebecca had reasoned. Better safe than sorry.

She glanced at the clock. The driver was supposed to get there around eight. Rebecca decided to grab a quick glass of water when someone knocked on her door. Rebecca smoothed out her skirt, saying, "Coming!" She checked her gun once more and walked over to the door, unlocking it.

When she opened the door, a tall man extended a gloved hand. He had a proper business suit on. His face of one of those that were easily forgettable. _'Probably for a reason,'_ Rebecca thought grimly, shaking his hand.

"Hello, Miss Chambers," the man said politely. "I will be your personal escort today."

"Thanks. Um, your name is…?"

"Unnecessary information," the man said, a smile on his face. Rebecca narrowed her eyes. "Shall we go…?"

"… Sure," Rebecca answered, stepping out. She turned around and locked the door, aware of the man's creepy gaze on her back. She turned around to see the man holding a door open for her. Her transport was a silver, not to mention _shiny,_ Porsche. Rebecca's jaw dropped open. ".. Not very subtle…" she said, still agape at the sight of the new car. She couldn't even afford her _own_ car…

The man smiled again. "The boss does like rather flamboyant things." He motioned inside the car. Rebecca nodded, and stepped inside, a luxuriously rich scent of new leather hitting her nostrils. She sighed as she slid in, the seats incredibly comfy.

The man opened the door in front, and sat behind the wheel. He looked in the mirror. "Fasten your seatbelt, Miss Chambers. The boss wouldn't want any harm befalling you before the party." He smiled his creepy smile again.

Rebecca could only nod in return, grabbing her seat belt. She clicked it into place.

"You did not forget anything, correct?" the man asked, his hands patiently waiting against the wheel.

"No, we can go," Rebecca answered, resisting an urge to feel for her gun.

The man nodded. He started the car. "The party awaits, Miss Chambers."

Rebecca suddenly felt jittery. _'This was such a _bad _idea….' _

_

* * *

_

The car suddenly screeched to a halt. Rebecca jolted up. She'd fallen asleep. She unconsciously felt for her gun. _"Still there… good,'_ she thought, relieved. She yawned. "Sorry, I fell asleep."

The man looked in the mirror. "Don't apologize. The ride was over an hour. It's understandable." He grinned. "We've arrived. Step outside once you're ready."

Rebecca undid her seatbelt and stretched. She almost didn't want to leave the grand atmosphere of the car, but she also really needed a breather. She looked at the man through the mirror. "Thanks."

The man met her gaze coolly. "Of course, Miss Chambers."

She felt a shiver run down her spine. Without another word, she opened the door, inhaling the cool air, admiring the view- "Wait." She looked around to make sure she wasn't hallucinating.

A forest.

She was in a god-damned freaking forest.

Rebecca whirled around. "Where the hell am I?" she cried. "Get me out of-" She stopped mid sentence.

The Porsche was gone.

Rebecca's eyes widened. "That's… not possible," she said slowly. "I didn't hear the car moving away… what the… I don't…" She felt the color drain from her face. Either he was some kind of ghost, or this whole party was a joke.

And she just got played like a sucker.

Rebecca stood for a moment, trying to calm herself. She surveyed her surroundings. _'This particular forest has everything a normal forest had- rows and rows and rows of trees, _she duly thought. From where she stood, nothing could be seen but trees. Behind her was a road that ended in a dead end. And more trees _'Great. Of course.' _

Rebecca started to unconsciously reach for her cell phone, which she would've kept in her back pocket. Upon realizing that there was _no _back pocket and she didn't even _have _her cell with her, she groaned. _'It's always the little things…'_ she thought irritably.

She drew in breath. There really was nothing else to do but start walking. She started for the road when she heard footsteps behind her. She whirled around, her hand near where her gun was concealed.

An African woman approached her. Rebecca's jaw dropped open. For the second time. _'Her outfit… slutty version of Red Riding Hood?' _was all Rebecca could possibly think.

And, slutty just might have been the best description. The woman did look like she'd stumbled out of a fairytale- a rated NC-17 version. She had something like what Red Riding Wood wore: a red hood attached to a short cape, a red dress with different variations of red intersecting at the bottom, and a small brown basket. There were major differences, however; her top was low-cut, which showed a _lot_ of her chest, her skirt ended mid-thigh, and she had fishnet stockings accompanied by black boots. If there was ever a hooker version of Red Riding Hood, Rebecca knew _exactly_ what the outfit would look like.

The woman smiled. "I thought I was the only one here for the party. You are though, right?" she asked. Her voice was think with an accent.

Rebecca snapped out of her daze. She felt a little intimidated. "Um, yeah. I am. Actually, I seriously thought that this was just a joke," she added.

"Yeah. Me too. My "driver" dropped me off a few minutes away from here. I have no idea what happened, but he disappeared."

Rebecca nodded. "Mine too." She looked at the woman, feeling a little more at ease. "I'm Rebecca Chambers."

The woman extended her hand. Rebecca shook it, smiling. The woman smiled again, saying, "My name is Sheva Alomar."

They released hands and stood silent for a moment.

"Did you see anyone else?" Sheva asked, somewhat hopefully.

Rebecca shook her head. "Sorry. Are you expecting someone…?"

Sheva shrugged. "I don't know if he'll actually show." Before Rebecca could ask who "he" was, Sheva asked, "How about you?"

Rebecca immediately thought of Billy. It was a stupid thought, and probably not going to come true any time soon. "No. I just… the inviter knows something that I need," she said, half-lying.

"Ah. I see," Sheva said. "Well, we should start walking. I think-"

"Sheva? Rebecca? Please, God, let that be you guys!"

The pair turned around, both gasping in unison.

They both knew they weren't hallucinating, but they hoped to God they were.

Jill Valentine walked toward them, a surprised expression on her face. It was Jill. That was okay. Good, even. But what _wasn't _okay was her costume.

A sandwich.

Jill was wearing a sandwich as her costume. Her head poked out of a hole in the top. She was pressed firmly in between two slices of white bread with lettuce, tomatoes, and other things sticking out from the top. There was an olive stuck in the middle of her "sandwich." She had on black heels, which totally contrasted with the rest of her outfit.

Sheva and Rebecca couldn't say anything. They were both at a total lost for words. They both knew Jill as a superior, someone who was calm and rational and would _not _dress up as a sandwich.

Jill grinned at them, rubbing the back of her head. "Jesus, it's been awhile!"

Rebecca and Sheva said nothing.

Jill raised one eyebrow. "Guys, what's wrong?"

"Rebecca?"

Jill, Rebecca, and Sheva all whirled around upon hearing the voice.

A woman stood, her face confused. She was dressed up as a witch- a, thankfully, normal witch. She had a floor length black dress on, accompanied by a cape on the back. She had a pointed witch's hat on, pink lining the edges. Her red hair was pulled back in a low ponytail.

The woman looked at Rebecca. "Rebecca?"

Rebecca stared blankly at her for a moment. Then, upon realizing her face, she cried out, "Claire!"

Claire smiled. "Becky, it's been a while."

Rebecca nodded. Things were looking up, after all. Even with Jill as a sandwich and Sheva as a prostitute Red Riding Hood. She smiled, brightening up her pixie features.

Jill and Sheva looked at Claire and Rebecca. "You two know each other?" Jill asked.

"Yeah, we met after Rebecca saved me and Leon from Raccoon City," Claire said.

Jill examined Claire's face. "I have the strangest feeling I know you…"

"What?" Claire asked, confused.

"Yeah, I think I've seen you in a picture," Sheva said thoughtfully. "I think… oh, yes, Chris showed me. He said that you were his little sister-" She stopped.

Jill exclaimed, "Oh, so _you're _the little Redfield! We finally meet!"

Claire looked at her. "Actually, both of you do look familiar."

Jill said, "I'm Jill Valentine."

"Sheva Alomar."

Claire gasped. "You're Jill Valentine? And Sheva Alomar? I'd never thought I'd get to meet Chris' partners. Tell me, was he always going on and on about how he needed to be stronger to beat Wesker?"

All four of them laughed. Sheva shook her head, chuckling. "In Africa, when I first met him, my first thought was- _Oh shit, I'm stuck with some guy on steroids._"

Jill rolled her eyes. "I know. When you and Chris helped me out, I was like- wait a minute. What the hell happened while I was gone? Did he go into a fit of depression?"

Rebecca looked at Jill. "Um, is it really that bad?"

"Oh, that's right, Becky… you haven't seen him recently."

"You should be glad you haven't," Claire said, grimacing.

Suddenly, the group saw something dark pass above their heads. They looked up, only to miss whatever was in the air. Something landed with a _thump _in front of them, and they turned toward the sound.

A tall, Asian woman stood up, dusting off her clothing. She had a very slender face and short black hair. She had a very red dress on, Asian flower prints sprinkled on one side. There was a slit on the other side. Lacy black heels graced her long legs.

Jill was the first to speak. "Hey. You're here for the party, right?"

Rebecca added, "That's a really cool costume."

The woman smiled almost coldly. "Oh, this? This isn't a costume. I find costumes… unnecessary."

Claire glanced at the woman, noting all the red. "Hi, I'm Claire. That's Rebecca, Jill, and Sheva."

"Ada. Ada Wong," the woman said. "Pleased to-"

"Ada… WAIT!"

Ada flinched. "Oh good, he's here," she said. "He can give me back my keys."

Claire and Rebecca looked at each other. "You don't suppose…?" Claire said, trailing off.

"It sounds awfully a lot like him…" Rebecca said thoughtfully.

From behind a tree, a young man jumped out, yelling, "Ada! Wait!" Around his face, he had a dark purple bandana wrapped around his mouth. He wore a long black trench coat, a hood wrapped around his head. Dirty blonde hair peeked from under his hood. On his back, he carried a large bag. He sort of looked like a drugs dealer…

The man grinned from under his bandana. "Ada! W-"

Ada glared at him, and he immediately fell silent. "That hasn't gotten old?"

He smiled. "Of course not."

Rebecca and Claire glanced at the guy. Claire examined his face, saying, "Leon?"

The guy turned to them, looking surprised. He face relaxed into a grin. "Claire, Rebecca! It's been awhile, hasn't it?" He turned to Jill and Sheva. "Leon S. Kennedy, pleased to make your acquaintance."

Jill cocked an eyebrow. "Jill Valentine."

Sheva smiled politely back. "Sheva Alomar."

Before Leon could say another word, Claire asked, "So… who the _hell _are you dressed as?"

Leon opened his mouth to say something when yet someone else interrupted.

"Claire!" A man shouted in a deep voice.

Claire's eyes widened. "Shit," she hissed. "Why is he here…?"

Sheva, Jill, and Rebecca looked at each other. Together, they said, "That's Chris!"

And, lo and behold, Chris Redfield appeared.

Sheva's jaw dropped open. "Please tell me this is a dream…"

Jill stared at Chris, mouth gaping wide open. ""Chris… what the hell…?" Rebecca was stunned into shock.

Claire glared at her brother, thoroughly embarrassed and, at the same time, weirded out. "Chris…" she said through gritted teeth.

Leon and Ada stood awkwardly to the side, not sure wait to say.

Chris' outfit might have just won the _What The Hell _prize over everyone else's. No one, at least the people who knew Chris, would ever think, or even suspect, that he'd dress up as…

Freaking _Superman. _

Chris looked ready to fight crime; he had on his customized Superman outfit, where in the middle of his outfit, there was a _C _instead of an _S. _A red cape billowed behind his back. Spandex hugged his thighs and he had on the customary red boots. All in all, he had the outfit down to the smallest detail. However, it was his _muscles _that made him look awkward. They strained against his skin-tight outfit, which, in effect, made him look like, well… a bloated hippo.

Chris panted. "I heard you!" he said to Claire.

Claire looked at him like he was psycho. "Uh, how?"

"Big brother instincts."

Claire rolled her eyes. "Of course."

Chris looked around, suddenly, feeling his face pale. "… S-Sheva? J-Jill? Why… why're you dressed up as-"

Jill glared at him. "Shut _up, _Chris. You have no right to ask _us _what we're wearing. _We_ should be asking you that."

Sheva cocked her head slightly. "Chris, when I said you were a superhero, you knew I was totally kidding, right?"

Chris chuckled. "Maybe." He grinned. "Anyway, let's get past the fact that we're all in pretty messed up costumes. It's good to see you guys again." He turned to Rebecca. "Wow, Becky, still little! I'm joking," he added teasingly.

Rebecca said nothing.

"Rebecca?"

"OHMYGOD,!" Rebecca blurted out.

The whole group stared.

Rebecca huffed. "You're… NOT… Chris…" she said through gritted teeth.

Chris held up his hands, smiling nervously. "Whoa, Becky. Calm down. It's me. Chris Redfield."

Leon's ears perked up at the name. "Chris… Redfield?"

Chris turned to Leon. "Yeah."

Leon grinned. "Hey, it's good to finally meet you."

"What?"

Leon extended a gloved hand. "I'm Leon S. Kennedy."

Chris stared at him for a second. "You're… Leon?" He looked at Claire. "He's the one who helped you back in Raccoon?"

Claire nodded, somewhat exasperated.

Chris turned back to Leon, suddenly smiling. "Leon!" He clapped Leon on the shoulder.

Leon grinned awkwardly back. "Uh, I…yeah, it's good to meet you too?"

Chris released Leon's shoulder, laughing loudly. "I don't know how much I can thank you. Claire wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you." His face darkened for a second. "You didn't do anything to her, _right?_"

Leon and Claire blushed slightly. Leon rapidly shook his head, shivering a little. Ada was glaring at him. "Of course not!" he said confidently. "Claire and I are good friends, that's it." He turned to Ada, giving a breath-taking grin. Ada smiled, rolling her eyes.

Claire walked over to Ada. "I'm sorry. I feel like we've met."

Ada nodded slightly. "You could say that. I was also in Raccoon City at the time of the incident."

Leon said, "Yeah, I helped her out _a lot_."

Ada punched him lightly. "Who saved your ass in Europe? By the way, where're my keys?"

Leon's face paled. "Uh, if I said I sold them on E-bay… what would you do?"

Claire laughed, while Ada sighed.

While Ada, Claire, and Leon spoke with each other, Chris turned to Rebecca, who was still upset. "Becky, really, it's me."

"Prove it,' she challenged. "What did you say when we encountered Plant 42 in the Spencer Mansion?"

Chris laughed. "That's easy. And I quote, 'Well, it seems we've reached the _root _of the problem.'"

Rebecca closed her eyes, laughing. "Alright. I give. You're definitely Chris."

Chris smiled.

Jill said, "Well, I wouldn't have recognized you. What kind of costume is that, anyway?"

Chris said teasingly, "If you tell what yours is." He turned to Sheva. "You-"

Sheva glared at him. "Don't even," she said, feeling happy on the inside.

He laughed. "Wow, everyone's just pissed at me."

Sheva and Jill laughed.

Rebecca looked at the scene. Everyone was talking to people they haven't seen in a while. It was good, being reunited.

So why did she feel so… _empty?_

Rebecca choked back tears. _'It's Billy. I miss him too much. I've lied to myself, over and over, that I don't miss him. I _do. _I really do, and now my stupid hopes are dashed…' _

A branch cracked behind her.

Rebecca whirled around.

Her eyes widened.

A man approached her. He had rumpled brown hair, and sunglasses on. He had on a formal looking business suit. It was dark blue with a light blue tie wrapped around his neck. It looked terribly uncomfortable.

The man looked at her, then lowered his sunglasses.

"Doll Face?"

Rebecca couldn't help herself. She ran, and nearly knocked Billy over. She hugged him, sobbing into his suit. "B-Billy… Billy," she cried.

Billy did nothing for a second, then smiled and hugged her back. "Good to see you, kiddo."

Rebecca felt _so _much better.

"Ah-hem," someone said, clearing their throat.

Rebecca and Billy turned to see Leon and everyone else looking at them. Leon grinned. "Well, this is awkward."

**Yay! Hope you guys enjoyed. Okay, I admit, some of their costumes, like Jill's and Rebecca's weren't very original. But, c'mon- Chris the Superman was! **

**Thanks for reading! **

**Please Review! **

***Sorry formatting's kinda wonky. My stupid laptop wouldn't work right. **


	5. The Nightmare Returns

**Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil. **

Chapter 5:

**The Nightmare Returns **

Rebecca and Billy stared awkwardly back at everyone else. Rebecca felt her face heat up. "Err… this is… William, uh, Conner?" she said, thinking fast. It was bad, she knew, but the other ex-STARS members had good memories, and they would probably remember Billy was a convict. She didn't want that to happen. It wouldn't be fair to either of them…

Billy raised an eyebrow, then composed himself. "Yeah. Will, if you like."

Chris grinned. "Nah, I dunno. _Billy _seems like a more suitable name."

Billy and Rebecca cringed slightly.

Chris simply laughed. "Rebecca, I didn't know you were into, well, _older _guys…"

Rebecca felt her cheeks flare. "He- he's not that old, God, Chris," she mumbled.

Billy chuckled at Rebecca. He turned to Chris. "You know Rebecca, too?"

"Yeah, we both worked at STARS. I'm Chris Redfield."

Everyone else introduced themselves.

Billy slightly sweat-dropped. _'Damn, there's two STARS members, not including Rebecca. God, they better not remember…' _

Leon asked suddenly, "Did you see anything, Billy? A house or something? Hell, even a _real _road would work."

Billy scratched his head. "Well, I did see something. Back where I was dumped off. I saw something dark blue. It looked bigger than a house."

"Let's head that way, then," Ada said. "We've got a better chance if we at least try."

Leon smirked at her. "I didn't know you were quite the optimist."

Ada ignored him and started walking. Leon shrugged, smiling, and followed.

Chris walked next to Sheva, catching up on old times. Jill chuckled as Claire told her about Alfred Ashford.

Billy and Rebecca stayed at the end, grinning at each other.

"You really haven't changed," Billy said.

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Yeah. You don't have to tell me twice."

Billy sighed, smiling. "Of course you'd show up in a nurse outfit."

"Shut up," Rebecca shot back mockingly. "What about you? A formal business suit was the best you could do?"

He answered, "At least these shades make me look awesome."

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but smiling. Years… it had been years since they'd been able to talk like this. Her hand unconsciously touched the dog tags, and she gasped.

"What?" Billy asked, somewhat concerned.

"Billy-" she began.

"What the hell…?"

Billy and Rebecca turned to Jill, who had suddenly spoken. She was staring forward with the rest of the group. Her mouth was agape.

"No…" Chris said faintly.

Rebecca and Billy hurried forward, then stopped in their tracks.

Rebecca's eyes widened. Her body shook as she realized what was right in front of her that should _not _even be there.

The Spencer Mansion.

It looked just as it did on that fateful day; dark, foreboding, and coming off at the hinges. Some of the outer windows were smashed. Balconies were found on both sides of the mansion. In the front, brown wooden doors guarded the entrance into the most hellish place imaginable.

Rebecca, Chris, and Jill couldn't speak. They had all been there; they knew what happened as the chopper whisked them away.

So, why was it still standing?

Claire held a hand to her mouth. "Chris, didn't you say it exploded…?"

Chris nodded stiffly.

Jill looked worryingly at the building. "Such detail… it can't possibly be a remake… right?"

Rebecca looked at Jill. "It looks like it's been here for a long time… as far back as the fifty's, even."

"Oh God," Jill said, her face paling.

"This doesn't make sense!" Chris said angrily. "We need to check inside. We can't risk having another Raccoon City incident."

"Chris!" Claire exclaimed. "Are we even prepared?"

Rebecca spoke up. "I brought one gun."

Sheva nodded. "So did I," she said, pointing to her basket.

Jill looked awkwardly at them, half-smiling. "Uh, I've got guns inside my costume…"

"How many?"

"Two," she answered.

Claire nodded. "Yeah, I've got a belt under my robe. I have one gun."

The girls looked at the guys. "Well?" Sheva asked. "Did you guys bring anything?"

Billy, Leon, and Chris exchanged glances.

"Well… no," Chris said.

"Me neither," Billy said.

Leon laughed awkwardly. "You know, funny thing is, I dressed up as this guy I met who's a merchant. Wherever I went, he had small shop set up. He had guns literally everywhere; he was _loaded._"

"So, you did the same thing, right?" Claire asked. "That would've brought the outfit together."

Leon rubbed the back of his head. "Err, not exactly."

Ada glared at him and opened his trench coat suddenly. Underneath, he had a black shirt and pants on. What was most notable, however, was that he had all these pockets in which he could've stored guns and ammo, but chose _not _to.

Ada seethed silently. "Leon, what was the point of the outfit if you can't even get the costume right?"

Leon opened his mouth to say something, then shut it.

Claire rolled her eyes. "_Okay, _so we've five people with guns. At least it's over half."

"But is it enough?" Jill asked.

Chris shook his head. "We have no choice. We _have _to go."

"Well, there goes our party," Leon half-grinned.

"Let's just get this over with," Ada said coolly.

The girls took out what guns they had, Jill unzipping the back of her costume, grabbing two sub-machine guns and then zipping back up. The guys stood pathetically to the side. Rebecca took out her standard pistol, Sheva had a Blacktail, Claire held a P8, and Ada mysteriously and randomly had an Ithaca shotgun.

"Well, then, boys," Claire said, cocking her gun, "let's get moving, shall we?"

The group turned silent as they realized what they were heading into. It was a hasty decision, but, as Chris had said, they couldn't survive another Raccoon City. It would be too much.

Chris took the front, Jill right next to him. Leon stayed close behind, and Claire right after him. Sheva and Ada took up the sides, and Billy and Rebecca remained at the back.

Rebecca was timid, suddenly, looking at the large building. Memories of what had happened sunk back into her mind. She looked up at Billy, anxiety apparent on her face.

Billy looked back, and smiled. "Don't worry, Doll Face, you got this," he whispered.

Rebecca almost smiled herself at the overuse of his "pet names", but remembered the situation. She nodded briskly, then gripped her Beretta tighter.

The group inched closer to the mansion, too close for comfort in Becky's opinion. She resisted the urge to hurl and kept her head high.

Chris looked back at the group, nodding slowly. Jill stood opposite him, her guns held out. Chris took a deep breath, and creaked the front doors slowly open.

The lobby of the mansion looked exactly the same as it had; it was magnificent, a flight of stairs leading up, a door just behind leading to the cemetery outside. Two double doors stood opposite one another, one leading to a dining room and the other a room with a big statue in the middle. A red carpet lay at their feet, almost looking like it was announcing their arrival. But, like the last time, it was silent.

Chris motioned it was clear, for now, and stepped inside. The other followed suit and stepped inside, leaving the door propped open.

Once inside, it was an even more apparent anxious silence. Chris looked at the others. "We'll need to split up," he said calmly.

"Right," Jill said, nodding. "Two groups of three, and one group of two. That way, at least one person who knows their way around here will be in each group; namely, Chris, Rebecca, and I."

Everyone nodded. "Sounds good," Leon said.

"Alright, let's split up-"

"You CRETINS!"

Gunfire suddenly hailed down on them.

"The hell…?" Chris swore, taking cover behind one of the pillars.

"Is everyone alright?" Rebecca yelled over the gunfire.

Ada looked around swiftly. "We're all correct and present," she said smoothly, despite the gravity of their situation.

The bullets gradually let off, and all that was left was dust swirling at their feet.

Whoever had tried to kill them cackled. "Scatter, you little vermin! Cower before me!" He giggled femininely. His voice was very _irritating. _

Claire froze. She started to shake. Sheva, who crouched next to her, looked at her, concerned. "Claire? Are you okay?"

Claire looked at her, her eyes wide with a mixture of horror and slight anger. "That voice… there's only one person I know with that voice…"

"Yes, Miss Redfield," the person said, glee evident in his voice. "Your brother too, should know me. Or rather, my sister, whom he brutally killed."

Chris looked at Claire, realizing in a second who it was.

They heard the person walk carefully down the stairs, with the sure assurance of an aristocrat. Claire risked a glance, and saw that she was right.

The man had a red suit on, khakis for pants. He had a strap wrapped around his chest and numerous medals hanging from his top. His blonde hair was smoothed cleanly back.

The man looked at the group. "Trembling little bugs," he said arrogantly.

"How… how are you here?" Claire cried, pointing out her gun. "You and your bitch-princess sister should be dead!"

Before anyone else could say anything, the man laughed. "I am not obliged to answer that."

"Yeah, you are!" Chris cut in.

The man raised an eyebrow. "Impetuous pest." He suddenly raised his arms. "Nothing can bring the Ashfords down. There will always be another to raise them up." He made a dramatic gesture with his hands.

"That person is myself… Alfred Ashford."

Alfred smiled at the group in a creepy way. "To start my family name's renewing, I had to gather to people most liable to destroy me. And to do that, I sent out the invitations."

He laughed maliciously. "And I shall start with the two Redfields…"


End file.
